


Left Over

by OldEmeraldEye



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Clove is bad at emotions, Dark, F/F, Non-Consensual Touching, Old work, POV First Person, also underage I guess, and the entire situation's messed up, because it's the Hunger Games, that I forgot to transfer from Fanfic.net
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 07:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19372267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldEmeraldEye/pseuds/OldEmeraldEye
Summary: No one ever said Careers play nice (in fact they say the opposite) but Clove does care, in her own, not very nice, way.





	Left Over

At times like this, I know better than to ask 'why me?' That's the sort of distraction that gets a Career killed.

First of all, it's rather hard to speak at all when you're being held up by your neck. The trick of surviving that is to keep what air you do have, and you time would be better spent kicking the crap out of the person doing the holding than making noise anyway.

Secondly, this is the Hunger Games. Twenty-four tributes come into the arena, only one victor comes out. Those are the rules of the game.

And honestly, it's already abundantly clear why this is happening. Because it's all my fault.

 

I should've known better than letting Eleven stay up the tree without telling the others, when we already had Twelve cornered in the next tree over. We could've had two kills at once.

I shouldn't have made my way up the trunk that night when it was my turn to keep watch. I really should've found some better gloves beforehand – that bark was rough.

I should've killed her when I had her pinned.

Or when I was done with her.

I definitely was not supposed to give her one of the ration bars, or tell her to leave before morning came and gave her position away.

I should've known she'd team up with Twelve. It's the Games. Everyone does anything to get ahead. I almost wasn't surprised to be woken by trackerjacker, but that isn't the sort of thing you really expect. Or that I never saw her again.

I heard her though, heard her screams echoing through the forest. It wasn't my name she was screaming.

I'm not the only one who likes playing with their prey. The thought doesn't usually sicken me.

 

Kicking doesn't work.

The tribute – Thresh, one of the few who we picked out as a possible threat – is built like one of those ancient trees even the instructors at the academy couldn't wrap their arms around. He would've made such a good Career.

He picks up a rock, and I scream –

\- For Cato –

\- for the girl whose name I'll never know –

\- again for Cato-

\- and out the corner of my eye I see movement in the trees.

It couldn't be her. It couldn't.

But –

Marvel didn't come back.

It could be her.

It _coul_ -

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to my younger self for thinking a couple of hundred words about a character that's just about to have her head knocked in with a sprinkle if implied sexual assault was nbd. Picking the appropriate tags for this was an experience.


End file.
